The Hobbit Queen: On Courses
by Aerlinniel722
Summary: Dwarrow are incredibly secretive when it comes to their culture, and especially their Dwarrowdams. As it turns out, their infertility comes from Dwarrowdams only getting their period once or twice a year. Obviously, Hobbits do not suffer from such afflictions, nor are they used to being catered to. This, however, is a lesson that Billa has yet to learn.


**AN: Second in a few one-shots/short stories (Titled: "THE HOBBIT QUEEN") that I have written about how Billa Baggins adjusts to life post-quest and the struggles that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield face as they try to understand Hobbit customs (and teach Dwarrow traditions).**

**This one-shot was written a while ago for the above summary/prompt that a best friend sent me. It was fun to write, and hopefully is amusing to you as well! Happy reading, and as always, I'd love to hear from you :)**

**Full Summary/prompt: ** Dwarrow are incredibly secretive when it comes to their culture, and especially their Dwarrowdams. What few outsiders know is that part of their infertility issues stems from Dwarrowdams only getting their period once or twice a year—and it's an over the top painful thing. So, in Dwarrow law, when a Dwarrowdam has her courses, they can get away with pretty much anything but murder, aren't expected to do anything, and any Dwarrow around them trip over themselves to do their bidding—lest they face their Dwarrowdam's wrath. For Hobbits, your courses are monthly, and Billa is quite confused why the Company is tip-toeing around her.

* * *

It was not yet dawn when Billa woke suddenly. She wasn't sure how she knew the time, but even through the thick walls of Erebor Billa could sense the earth and the time. It was part of her hobbit nature, she supposed. Consider how deep within the Mountain she was, her sense acted like her only connection to the outer world. Shifting in her bed, Billa froze with a groan.

"Yavanna's mercy!" She swore under her breath as she registered the warm stickiness that could only mean one thing.

Billa threw back the blankets, immediately spotting the tell-tale crimson on the sheets. It always came like this—in the morning. Throwing her now-healed furry feet over the edge of the bed, she padded into her attached bathroom. Not for the first time, she revelled in the plumbing within. Dwarrow plumbing really was a marvel. Now she also understood how the Company had so easily decimated the toilet in her smial. Indeed, if she ever returned to Bag End, she herself might find it finicky. _Not_, she mused, _that I ever plan to go back_.

A smile quirked her lips—she couldn't help it. Since the Battle of Five Armies, now three months ago, Billa had come to call Erebor home. In the immediate aftermath, her Dwarrow had apologized for their treatment of her. They'd also insisted that she remain with them in Erebor and Billa hadn't thought twice about her acceptance. Nor had she hesitated before agreeing to Thorin's question— if he could officially court her. By now, Billa knew that her letter ought to be well on its way—settling her affairs back at home.

Within her bathroom, working by lamp-light, Billa did the necessary. She cleaned herself up before throwing the nightdress into the basket where to-be laundered linens went. Billa still felt guilty about making someone else wash her linens, but a few attempts to do her own laundry and the Company had set Dori on her. She'd rather not relive that particular experience. He had fussed over her from head to toe, explaining to her how her dress mattered. It was worse than even what was expected of her as the Baggins of Bag End—and Billa had privately decided not to invoke his wrath again; at least not if she could help it. She had also been quite relieved at his departure.

She grimaced, it was such a horrible thought to have, especially of a friend. Still, Dori was scary. Dori when it came to clothes, and how one of her status was to dress? Even scarier. The Dori set on making sure that their king went absolutely mad every time he saw her? It filled her with more terror than even Smaug had managed. Ori had nodded sympathetically when Billa explained her ordeal. Nori, she noticed, had been conspicuously absent—as had the rest of the Company.

With make-shift padding firmly in place, Billa knew that she would have to ask about if there were any other supplies on hand. She wandered back into the bedroom, turning on another lamp before she began to strip her bed—grateful at least that she had not stained her mattress. All the same, Billa knew that she would also need an extra layer on her bed, just in case.

"At least you're somewhere civil this time," she muttered to herself, as she headed into the kitchen.

It was past dawn now, and she'd never get back to sleep. Especially not since the earth was coming alive outside. All the same, she knew better than to leave the Mountain. She'd left about a month ago, desperate to watch a real sunrise, despite the cold. The Company had panicked and sent out search parties. In retrospect, it was almost amusing the way that all of Erebor had been put into a state of emergency—well, humorous, but also humiliating. _Silly Thorin_, Billa mused,_ he really could be such a pain sometimes_.

Finished with her first breakfast, Billa wandered into her living room to wait for the rest of the Company to wake. Although her rooms were dark—without any windows, she loved that she had space in her new quarters. The apartment she'd been given had its own living space and kitchen in addition to the bedroom with ensuite. Billa settled herself in her favourite armchair with a cup of calming peppermint tea, not that she had any cramps and a new book from Ori. The wood stove was warm and she was so caught up in her reading that she barely greeted the maid.

"I'll need new sheets," she murmured over her shoulder. Although Billa felt bad for not engaging in a real conversation, she was at a good part in the book. Also, she knew that if she could finish before breakfast, then she'd get the chance to speak with Ori about it.

"Of course," the Dwarrowdam murmured as she disappeared into the bedroom. While the dwarf quietly went about her duties, Billa lost herself in the book again. Indeed, Billa was so immersed in it that she didn't even notice the maid leave.

* * *

Billa finished her book just in time to use her lovely toilet—it really was an entirely different kind of romance—and head to the main dining hall for what the Dwarrow called breakfast. Meals had naturally always a favourite for her. However, since Erebor had been on the mend, they'd become particularly nice because it was one of the only times when all of the Company was able to come together—or could at least to stop by to say hello.

However, as she arrived in the hall that morning, Billa though it was oddly quiet. Seeing that everyone was already seated as she entered, Billa also realized that she must be late.

"Sorry," she muttered, afraid that she might be interrupting something.

"Sorry?" Bofur spluttered.

"Aye, no need to be sorry, lass, here, have a seat," Glóin jumped to his feet and hurried forward. Feeling slightly surprised, Billa found herself ushered to her seat. Once there, her plate was filled almost instantaneously.

"You'll need your strength, aye," Dwalin nodded approvingly as he added another sausage to the already-impressive mound in front of her.

"And if there's anything else missing, or not to your taste, the kitchen'll have it here in a jiffy!" Bombur insisted, and Billa thought there was an odd edge of nervousness in the chef's voice.

"Right, thanks," Billa replied, a little nervously. Eyeing the plate in front of her, though it did look amazing—and her stomach grumbled as though she hadn't had first breakfast.

Deciding that she wasn't waiting on ceremony, Billa dug into her food. She savoured several bites, feeling the odd weight of all thirteen Dwarrows' gazes on her. Deciding that she was just being paranoid, Billa turned resolutely towards Ori as she chewed quickly and swallowed her mouthful of eggs.

"So, I finished that book—" she began. To her surprise; however, the scribe's eyes went wide. Billa trailed off.

_It is, _she thought, _almost as though he is afraid of me—but that would be ludicrous! _Ori had been one of Billa's first friends amongst the company. For a moment though, Billa wracked her brain; trying to think of when she could have upset the dwarf. Glancing across the table towards Dwalin, Bills saw he was also tense, but not upset with her. Over the past months, Billa had noticed the warrior becoming increasingly protective of the Scribe, but it was not her place to say anything. Instead, she used Dwalin as another meter—trying to discern what was happening. Unable to reach any sensical conclusion, Billa set down her fork with a frown.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, pointedly looking around the room at the over-attentive, if decidedly nervous, faces.

"But of course, why wouldn't things be alright?" Glóin interjected hastily and Billa's frown deepened. All of her Dwarrow were acting off this morning, she was certain of it, and it was disconcerting at best and downright worrisome at worst.

Billa glanced in Thorin's direction, and for a moment her gaze met his. He looked at her with what Billa thought might have been pity. It was an odd expression since she was not hurt, but she'd seen that exact look on his face as he watched over her during her convalescence following the Battle of Five Armies. Now, Billa was even more perplexed. _What is going on?_ she wanted to demand.

"Is it not to your liking? I can have the kitchens—" Bombur interrupted her line of thought, and Billa turned to him.

"Oh, no, it's wonderful," she quickly enthused. Turning back to her plate, she tried desperately to think of what could have happened to make them all so worried about her. As she turned her attention back to her plate, quiet chatter slowly resumed around her, though she noticed that all of them continued to steal not-so-surreptitious glances in her direction.

Uncertain how to proceed, Billa finished her breakfast. Far from their usual dispersal, the Company all stayed seated, plying Billa with so much food that eventually she had to decline for fear of bursting—a difficult task.

"Alright, enough!" she got to her feet, annoyed as she looked around at all of them. Kíli, who still held a plate of scones, and Dori, who was offering more sausages, both seemed to freeze and then deflate. The hall went silent—even quieter, she thought, than when they were all hiding from Smaug.

"Billa," Thorin began cautiously and she glared reproachfully at him as he continued to regard her with pity. He abruptly fell silent.

"I could get you another book if you want," Ori hurried.

"Or more food," Bombur added, in spite of the fact she'd just insisted that she was full.

"Tea!"

"A blanket!"

"Do you need to rest?"

It was like the ice had been broken and Billa blinked rapidly as they all began speaking at once only to stop as abruptly as they'd begun.

"What is this all about?" Billa demanded, her hands on her hips as she surveyed them impatiently.

"What's what about?" Thorin replied, with obviously false casualness. Even her King Under the Mountain seemed to shrink as Billa glared at him—and for a moment she almost felt bad. But, then her annoyance returned.

"But she seems so normal," Ori's whisper came from behind her and, in the silent room, it carried.

"Normal?" she whirled around as all the colour drained from the scribe's face.

"Erm, well, Lassie," Balin began, his face going even pinker than it had been after he'd bested Dwalin at a drinking contest. Still, as she turned to face him in growing exasperation he held his ground—_good old Balin,_ she mused.

"What?" she demanded, desperation creeping into her voice as Balin failed to articulate anything of value.

"They mean, well, you're more level-headed than the Dwarrowdams we're used to, but we know you've your courses and whatever you need, we're at your disposal." Dwalin rambled in one long breath, taking over for his brother. Abruptly, Billa felt her face turn scarlet.

"Oh dear, I think you've embarrassed her," Dori muttered and Dwalin shot him a truly fearsome glare.

It was true, though, she was utterly humiliated. Then, the confusion set in.

"So, this," she gestured around the room, "is all because I'm on my period?" She frowned.

"Well," they hemmed and hawed, clearly taken aback by her reaction. Then, like a dam had burst they all stumbled over each other to try to explain.

"You're on your courses,"

"We just wanted to help,"

"It's a special time,"

"A celebration, really,"

"What can we do?"

It all jumbled together as Billa listened, her jaw dropping increasingly lower in dawning comprehension.

"I just don't understand why you're all making such a big deal!" she finally burst and silence once more pervaded the room.

"Because it's your courses!" Billa stared back in confusion at Kíli, who seemed almost beside himself in trying to prove his point.

"The same as every month!" she insisted, without thinking and then watched the change in the room.

Ori looked ready to faint, Balin couldn't appear more surprised if Smaug entered the room, and even Dwalin looked rather dazed. Thorin's eyes had gone wide, and a swift glance around the room told her that the Dwarrow all bore similar expressions.

"Every month?" Glóin asked, his voice sounding a good octave higher than normal.

"And, that's normal?" Bombur interjected.

"It can't be," Fíli shook his head in utter rejection of the idea.

"Well, yes, quite normal," Billa assured them. "I suppose it's not like that for Dwarrowdams?" Bilba found herself asking hesitantly.

"They've theirs maybe twice a year, if they're lucky, lass. There's a reason you don't see many Dwarrow children," Balin fell one more into his role as school master.

"But monthly!" Glóin protested, his eyes still wide with shock.

"And you're not in any," Balin trailed off rather helplessly. It really would have been comedic too, if Billa hadn't been so flabbergasted.

"Discomfort!" Oín interjected, and Billa turned to the Company's healer. He sat right across from her, she supposed it was a slightly odd seating arrangement, but given how his hearing was deteriorating she hadn't really thought much about how intensely he'd been staring at her throughout the meal.

"Well, she is a hobbit," Bifur still didn't speak much either, but when she looked at him he was the only one who seemed at all capable of processing what she was saying. Well, she amended, he and Nori, who was looking rather thoughtful.

"But we didn't even notice it," Nori mused as he noticed her looking at him. He sighed and shook his head, clearly disappointed in himself.

"Notice what?" Thorin snapped.

"On the quest," Nori replied and the thunderstruck looks returned.

Billa sighed and sat back down. _It really is going to be a long day,_ she thought. All the same, twice a year, she envied Dwarrowdams if that was the case. Though then again, judging by the looks of horror and fear that she'd initially been met with, perhaps there was more to this story than she knew.

* * *

It wouldn't be until several months later that Billa was exposed to a Dwarrowdam on her courses. It truly was a scary prospect, and if the Dwarrowdam in question had actually murdered someone, well, Billa wasn't sure that she'd actually be charged. That experience, though was only the beginning of how Billa came to understand just how seriously periods usually were taken in Dwarrow culture. It was, however, a chance for her to reflect on how glad she was not to be a Dwarrowdam. _Truly, they are more fearsome than Smaug,_ she thought.


End file.
